


night sky changing overhead

by childrenbehave



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Dating, Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Romantic Comedy TBH, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childrenbehave/pseuds/childrenbehave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘You two are ridiculous, you know that, right? Accidentally getting together on Valentine's?’ ‘Hey, we got you a menu from Gordon Ramsay!’ </p><p>[Just another Valentine Day’s with the lads from One Direction.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	night sky changing overhead

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for Valentine’s Day but it got long and the day passed. (Longest date ever!) We also had no plans to add in the other three. So, of course, when we deliberately write them out, they write themselves back in. HILARIOUS, AREN’T THEY?

When they meet up with the lads after Valentine’s weekend (really, Zayn, a surprise trip to Paris? Show off.) and the hangovers have subsided (Harry; and thanks for handling the worst of it, Niall.) they are surprised at the total lack of surprise. They are, however, less surprised at the amount of laughter.

Their friends are utter bastards.

Honestly, it’s all society’s fault. The pressure they put on the day.

But really, it’s the bloody card’s fault. Liam will swear to that.

*

It’s just a card. 

Right?

He clicks and orders it first class. 

*

_boooooo-red_

_don’t call me boo_

_didnt! ;) said i was bored wanna go see a thing?_

Louis reads the text and rolls his eyes. Whatever, he doesn’t need them or their liberal, systematic abuse of an ancient petname his mum happened to tell Harry about that one time after that one show. 

_thing. like a film?_

He’s barely picked up the controller when his phone screen flashes again. Louis stares at the screen and fights the urge to look. He’s finishing the level. That’s all. 

The controller makes a staggering sound against the wooden floor, landing half on the rug and half with a clatter. He has two messages, both from Liam. 

_nah i wanted to go to that gallery haz was talkin about_

_j/k Y A FILM LOU_

_fine don’t get cheeky. what film?_

*

Liam is trying to deal with his inbox (why do they bother half the time? They don’t need to copy in the group band email that Louis monitors and their individual addresses) and his phone is flashing in the corner of his eye. He picks it up because the unread messages have waited two months at this point, they can stand to wait five more minutes, and taps out a reply to Louis.

_i picked film_

He’s filing - deleting - another page of out of date diary info and funny links from his sisters when the box pops up in the right hand corner of his screen. 

Louis’s eyebrow fills the box. 

Maybe it’s something to do with the kind of people who try to be popstars, or maybe they’re just too used to cameras, but the lads are the only people Liam knows who actually choose to video call people when a phone call would probably do the trick. Liam fumbles for his ipod, still in his hoodie pocket, and hears Louis’s voice through his speakers as the earbuds fall into his lap. He’s pretty sure his nice big flat has other chairs than the desk chair but he’s been in it for about three hours, beyond all explanation. Apparently he’s just not used to this spare time nonsense. 

‘-of all the _things_ we could choose to see, Liam, a _film_ is a shocking narrowing of the options. This is bloody London! There is no way that counts as making a decision. None. I refuse. Do I have to do everything?’ 

Liam accepts the video call after scowling at the box. Scowling feels a lot like a grin, but he’s not on the outside of his head to look and check, is he, so who knows?

Louis sits back, glaring at his webcam, the lamp next to his desk catching the badly-pixelated shadows of his neck and collarbone - he must be wearing one of those t-shirts with the ridiculous neckline again. Or one of Liam’s that comes down to his knees. 

‘Liam. Liam? I think my screen’s frozen, stupid, let me -’ There’s a tapping sound that’s probably Louis trying percussive maintenance on what Liam _knows_ is a macbook pro. He shakes himself. 

‘’M here, stop that,’ he says, sitting the chair back and focussing on the screen. He maximises the chat window. 

Louis sits back and glares at him. Liam ignores the multiple expressions he’s pretty sure Louis is trying (succeeding) to send him over the internet and hears a ping. A chat box is open in the corner of the video box. 

_Schwarszenghgfdkhghg_

_we’re going to see that_

Liam doesn’t know why he puts his hands on the keyboard and types back, bracing his feet against the side of the desk and sliding sideways in the chair. 

_probly rubbihs hes proper too old for this shit_

_ageism, payne. leave it out. rocky only said that to prove it was WRONG_

Louis is grinning into the camera though, some weird way of keeping eye contact when they aren’t talking and they aren’t even in the same room. Liam’s friends are weird, he decides. 

_you’re never too old to KICK ASS_

Liam bites back a comment about Harry Potter in all caps. Louis gets sensitive about _The Order of the Phoenix._

There’s a long-suffering sigh through the mac speakers and Liam watches Louis tap on the edge of his own desk. 

‘Expendables, Li! That was some horrible script-writing with excellent explosions! What more could you want on- today!’

Liam knows this. They watched it twice and the bus ads were a serious topic of conversation for about two months. They used the surnames of the cast as a cypher in one of their interviewer-proof codes. It was still terrible, just not in a way that he could look away from it. 

Besides, Louis has clearly made a well-informed and considered decision. 

Okay, Lou made a decision, and whether it’s informed or not is anybody’s guess, but it’s not like being informed has ever stopped him getting stubborn about decisions before, so Liam knows he’s going to go along with it, unless his roof actually caves in before he gets to his door and he has to live in his man cave like Batman without any toys or a way of getting his car to the surface. Or-

‘Liam!’

‘Listening.’

‘Liar-Liam. Lee-ar. No, that doesn’t work at all. Leave it with me. Are you going to pay more attention to the film than to me?’

Liam looks at him. ‘If you want me to pay attention to you, we should probably go out for dinner instead of a film.’

‘Dinner!’ Louis grins and Liam sees his knuckles as he types into his own laptop. ‘Knew I was forgetting something. Ideas? Come on, your turn, I decided the film, quick, quick.’ 

Liam’s stomach chooses then to remind him he hasn’t actually gotten up and cooked yet. Oops. Desk chair. Surprisingly comfy. ‘Could do dinner first? Catch the later showing.’

Louis makes a show of tapping his chin in the chat window. ‘It _is_ a weekday for most people. We might get less hassle.’

‘No pizza,’ Liam says quickly, sitting up. Louis can get as stubborn as he wants, but if Liam has any more pizza in the next month, he’s not responsible for his actions. He’ll move into Harry’s spare house instead of eating more pizza and Harry’s spare house has less chairs than rooms because he won’t stop sleeping on other people’s couches. They made the mistake of saying they liked pizza in an interview, thinking it was a bland statement with no possible consequences, and seven days later, even Niall was quietly asking for a change of dip for the crusts. 

Louis’s jaw turns and he stares daggers down the camera. ‘If we end up eating pizza I will use the melted cheese to attach all the knives I can reach to the edges of it and throw it like Xena’s chakram until we are no longer eating pizza.’

‘No pizza,’ Liam agrees, coughing to cover the fact that he’s almost not laughing at Louis.

*

He fidgets at the door, sighs and grabs at it with a deep breath. It gets stuffed into his jacket pocket where he can feel its edges press against his side.

It’s not a big deal.

It’s just a card.

* 

So they get run out of the restaurant and they’re trending on twitter again inside of twenty minutes. 

This time it’s not their fault. 

‘It’s not our fault, I’m telling you.’

Which is the first thing Louis says when he picks up his phone in the kitchen in the Covent Garden place.

Liam is kicking his feet, hands twisting behind his back where only Louis can see, and apologising profusely to the chef, the manager, the staff, and possibly the chopping boards. Louis wants to be grateful for Liam’s superpowers - they get in trouble with or without him, then Liam and Harry apologise and smile until they’re in less trouble - but his stomach had started growling when they walked past all of the people eating on the way to the table. 

‘-thought that the brick basement would mean less phone signal for twitter and instagram but then people tweeted while they were out smoking-’

‘Right, car,’ Louis says, rubbing his forehead. His hair is starting to fall on to it, which means they need to get out of the frying pan and into the fire, because it’ll be less boiling hot outside. Denim jackets are not kitchen-wear. ‘You’re sending one?’

‘Louis, you sound bloody knackered. The car could take you boys back home and pick up-’

‘Rather not,’ Louis bites into the phone, turning his shoulder so it’s further away from Liam, like he’s going to hear it in the kitchen, where there’s enough rattling pans and earnest apologies to put together an animated musical number. ‘Already out, you see. If we go back I’ll go to sleep early and bugger my sleeping pattern.’

There’s a silence he can practically feel like a hand on his shoulder. 

Except that’s actually a hand on his shoulder?

‘Restaurant boiling over?’ Louis asks quietly, leaning into the weight Liam’s putting on his shoulder and cradling the phone on his other side. 

Liam’s mouth twitches. ‘Think we’re going to be all right here. They trying to send us home like good lads?’

‘They usually are,’ Louis replies before he can shut himself up, and maybe he is knackered, because it comes out sounding a lot like _thanks._

He doesn’t know how loudly Sarah at the Modest office has to cough for him to hear it through his skull like that, but Louis bets she’s owed days off for it. Sarah is great, like a lot of the team. Louis pushes the phone back up to his ear and catches Liam’s eye. 

‘I’m humouring you, Lou,’ Sarah says sharply, but there’s a curl of amusement under it. ‘God knows why. Maybe it’s because Sam is on the other side of the ocean until Sunday and I have literally nothing better to do _tonight_ than help you two escape social media. You’re welcome.’

‘Thank you, Sarah,’ Louis replies, smiling. 

Sarah’s also a bit of a softie, and if had been Louis himself, he’d have worried for a second, but he’s got _Liam_ with him. Ha! He rubs a hand over Liam’s hair - it’s growing back a bit - and gives him a thumbs up. 

‘All right, Neo, I don’t know if you’re ready to see what I want to show you, but unfortunately, you and I’ve run out of time -’

And this is why they love Sarah.

*

They don’t end up on a window ledge, or in the custody of agents. Well. They have to climb through a bathroom window once. Liam punts Louis up off his knee and pulls himself up: the chef helps, muttering things about hungover mornings and sneaking in that Liam doesn’t want to know about. 

There’s a way out through a disused basement room out of the back of the kitchen, it’s _grim,_ Liam doesn’t want to think about what might be on the bottom of his shoes now. Bloody _twitter._ Louis doesn’t loosen his grip around his wrist until they need the hands to do seatbelts. 

‘Get in, losers,’ Mike says, after they’re in. He’s grinning. 

‘We are _not_ going shopping,’ Louis shoots back, slowly grinning himself. 

Liam cannot believe Louis dug that joke up from where it was safely buried with a gang of the zombies who killed it, but he sort of can, because _Louis._ He rubs his eye as the car leaves Covent Garden behind, along with the shuffling pack of paps outside their latest attempt at restauranting quietly. 

‘Where are we going?’

‘Paul says to tell you not to do anything massively more stupid than usual,’ Mike calls back to them, ‘and he _should_ tell you that he’s not leaving his house because he and Clodagh have managed to get rid of the kids for the night -’ Liam is willing to bet Paul used different words, Paul _loves_ his children - ‘and you’re lucky Sarah got the last good restaurant reservation in London for you because an exec at the company has to stay home and look after a kid with the flu.’

Louis and Liam look at each other in the back seat. Liam nods.

‘What’s the catch?’ 

Mike coughs. 

‘Knew it!’ Louis says triumphantly. ‘Spill. What terrible things has Sarah promised this restaurant? Because we _can_ still go home.’

Liam feels the tug of the familiar rhythm and chimes in. ‘Hmm, pizza. I could go a pizza.’

‘I could use the Domino’s app right now,’ Louis waves his iphone in the rearview mirror. 

Mike turns the radio up and grins at them with a raised thumb at a red light. 

Louis winces and Liam feels his shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. ‘You know, I don’t actually know how to get up from an all time low. You lot make me laugh too much.’ 

‘Don’t legitimise them,’ Louis says with a sniff.

Mike turns the radio down when The Wanted have faded to the DJ talking about their super important twitter feud with ‘those pranksters, One Direction.’ 

‘Our punishment for getting caught outside on twitter is getting caught outside on twitter, isn’t it?’ Liam leans forward and taps Mike’s shoulder. 

‘Yep,’ Mike says, cheerfully. ‘The fashion blogs are going to love your uncompromising casualwear statement in the morning.’ 

‘We hate you,’ Louis answers with a grin. 

‘That’s why they pay me the big money, kiddo, and just think of how much less trouble we’re having with the other three tonight because of this,’ Mike answers, completely unphased. ‘Now smile, we’re nearly there. It’s just in Mayfair.’ 

‘What glad tidings,’ Liam hears Louis mutter, reaching into the back pocket of the front seat and pushing his hair back up. Liam holds a hand out and Louis smacks the excess hair goop into it, and Liam does his best to angle his in some direction, rather than all of them at once. The kitchen at Covent Garden had melted them a bit. 

‘All right?’ Louis asks. ‘’m I pretty?’

Liam huffs a quiet laugh but gives him a look over. ‘You’ll do. Let me, here, lean over-’

Louis leans obediently and Liam pushes his fingers through his hair to settle it in its usual pile up of a wave or something. Whatever it is, it suits him, sticking up like that, drags his cheekbones up and leaves his jaw there to be seen. 

Louis reaches over to sort Liam’s collar and pat his shoulder. Liam blinks: he didn’t know his collar was out of sorts, but he’s glad Louis is there to fix it before he’s in all the papers looking a right mess. 

‘They’re going to give you hell for wearing that again,’ Liam says, tugging the hem of Louis’s tshirt. 

He can’t tell if Louis was blushing or still warm from the kitchen and the run, but there’s a touch of colour in his cheeks as they onto the well-lit ‘receiving area’ for the restaurant. Restaurants having red carpets four nights a week are a new thing for Liam, and he’s not entirely sure he wants to run the gauntlet just for a meal, but they’re here now, and it’s usually better with Louis next to him, anyway. 

‘What I had on when you texted. Don’t want them to think I made an effort or anything,’ Louis shifts in his seat and turns to him with a shit-eating grin. ‘Why, do you want it back?’ 

Liam is saved from answering by the appearance of the hotel, which is good because he was going to answer something about how he liked watching Louis wear it more than he liked wearing it, except what he actually says is, ‘Fuck.’

Louis’s mouth falls open and he looks at Liam, then out of the car window, then back at Liam. ‘Okay, I should have nicked one of your _nicer_ tshirts.’ 

*

They more or less rush inside - really, Sarah, a little warning about dress code would have been nice - and there’s a few camera flashes. Louis would wince at his choice of attire but really it’s not the first time he’ll be pictured entering such a swank place in his denim jacket. Plus, it’s a _hotel_. He’s literally entered some places while on tour in his pyjamas. However they’re not exactly going to a room, are they?

Tugging Liam inside, he spin in the foyer and grins. ‘At least one of us looked like a popstar.’ 

Liam rolls his eyes and nudges him towards they’re being waved forward. ‘I’m wearing trainers.’ Louis looks down. So he is. White Converses, to be exact, and they look like they’ve seen more than their share of puddles, mud, and London rain. 

‘Well, aren’t we a pair.’

Liam shrugs, ‘Come on, I’m hungry. Don’t worry ‘bout them.’ Louis nods, biting his cheek. He does love it when Liam leaves behind the public figure mantle. Neither of them had really wanted to deal with the media tonight, but they’ve had to, and to be honest those quick ten seconds outside were more than enough than he had been willing to give.

Anyway, just by the small stairs of the hotel’s foyer, there’s a very lovely young lady waving them forward, politely ignoring their conversation and telling them that their table is ready. 

Sliding a look to Liam, he waggles his eyebrows, ‘Shall we, Payner? Our table awaits.’

Liam nudges his shoulder. Louis wraps an arm around his waist and they follow their lovely smiling hostess who asks for their coats. Louis almost doesn’t want to take his jacket off for a few reasons, mainly though since he’s only wearing a t-shirt but shrugs it off. Liam takes off his black coat and he has to smother a smile at Liam’s blush because he hadn’t been expecting such a nice place either and he’s wearing a washed out grey cardi with holes by his thumbs over his button down. 

He looks so cuddly. Louis flicks a button maybe a bit too near a nipple since Liam’s hand automatically rises to circle his wrist. Louis snickers and wiggles his hand free.

The restaurant is posh as hell though, which is Louis’s first thought as they’re led to their table. Several people eye them - people _always_ eye them - but go back to their dinners quickly enough. The tables all have small red candles and Louis flicks the shape the napkin is folded into before shaking it out of shape. 

‘Fancy,’ he murmurs, eyeing the room and low hanging lights. Their dimmers clearly set to: _soft_.

‘I thought Sarah liked us.’ Across him Liam’s biting his lip like he’s trying not to laugh. That lasts about a minute until their waiter comes around and sets down what can only be described as very pink champagne onto their table, with an airy, ‘On the house, gentlemen.’

Louis touches the flute lightly, finds it cool to the touch, and catches Liam’s eyes. They dissolve into giggles. Liam’s eyeing his drink like he’s going to bite him.

‘Are we supposed to drink this?’

‘I do believe that’s what you’re supposed to do with free drinks,’ Louis grabs his champagne and swirls it in its glass, jutting his chin out. Liam’s watching him like he’s waiting to see what Louis will do, and how he’ll do it. He raises his eyebrows, waiting, challenging. 

Louis pinches his faces, narrowing his eyes, and doesn’t miss how Liam’s brow do that furrowing thing. Challenge, is it?

The champagne is all fizz and coolness down his throat. He’s glad that the glass was tall and thin and made it seem as if there was more to the drink than there actually was because he downs all of it. He’s vaguely aware of a few faces looking over, but really, the only face that matters is Liam’s. Who looks like he’s about roll to the floor laughing. Perfect, then.

‘Ah, refreshing!’ Louis winks, putting his glass down. 

Liam snorts, ‘I can’t believe you did that.’

Louis waves his hand, ‘When in Rome, Payne. You going to leave me hanging?’

Liam looks between his drink and Louis. ‘Well, if it’s free.’

‘To be fair, we haven’t seen the bill yet, but we didn’t ask for it, so...’

‘You’re ruining it.’ 

Louis leans back in his chair, pressing a hand to his chest and widening his eyes. The t-shirt is soft from washing, but now with some fizz and alcohol in his system he doesn’t mind so much he’s severely underdressed. ‘My apologies, please, do continue,’ he says in an overly-affected tone.

Liam rolls his eyes, but he’s grabbing his drink and Louis bites his lip to stop himself from muttering _chug, chug, chug_ \-- it might be considered rude in such a place. Bright side, however, is that he doesn’t even need to. Liam meets his eyes then tips his head back and there goes all the lovely pink champagne down Liam’s throat. Louis can’t help but notice how his Adam’s apple bobs, after all it’s right _there_. Liam blinks and makes a bit of a face sitting his glass back down, empty as Louis’s. He licks his lips slowly. 

Smirking, Louis does a slow, semi-silent clap. ‘ _Liam Payne_.’

He laughs and Louis can tell from the look his eyes that he wants to throw his napkin at him, but he checks himself, aware that this is not the type of place where you throw napkins. Under the table he feels what can only be Liam’s feet nudge his. He nudges back.

‘Let’s order, yeah?’ Liam says, looking around for a waiter. ‘I’m starved.’

Louis nods. 

The waiter comes by and tells them that due to tonight they have two menus to choose from. Liam and Louis eye each other asking for a minute to decide. Louis chews on the inside of his cheek, eyeing their options. Liam’s biting his thumb nail. They can’t seem to keep eye contact for more than a few seconds and Louis really wishes he could blame the flush he’s feeling on the stumpy red candle on the table. 

Liam clears his throat, eyes flitting up to Louis. ‘Um, ah, the ravioli looks good.’

Yeah, Louis cannot blame how heated his neck and cheeks feel on the candle at all. Louis looks away from Liam down to the menu and tries not to stare at the title above where Liam’s dish is printed too closely. He swallows, tries to make words come out of his mouth. Just because he was going to suggest a dish from the same menu means nothing at all. Nope.

He realises he’s waited a beat too long when he feels Liam’s feet move away from they’ve been slided up next to his. It sparks Louis into action. First, he traps Liam’s moving foot between his, pulling it back, and looks up to Liam. His throat feels a little too dry for his own good. They should really order some water.

‘I’m thinking the venison, black truffle, you know?’ 

‘Harry’s spoiled you,’ Liam mutters, soft, too soft and well, he does have a point. Everything Louis knows about food and cooking comes from Harry. Harry would lovingly stroke the menu if he were there.

‘Us, you mean, Mr. Lobster Ravioli with Watercress,’ he says, smiling back. Liam lifts one shoulder as if to say _what can you do? Harry likes to feed us._ He grins at Louis and the air has lightened again. ‘So what is venison anyway?’

Liam laughs, all low and rumbly. Something in Louis’s chest swirls pleasantly. ‘I think it’s deer?’

He winces, ‘Oh, Bambi.’

‘Changing your order then? I mean, we don’t have to choose- It’s the--it is seven courses.’

It would be so easy to agree with Liam. They don’t _have_ to eat from the tonight’s Special Set Menu, there are plenty of other dishes. It’s not like it means anything. It’s just food. However.

‘It does look really good. And did you see the desserts?’

‘The chocolate cake?’ Louis can’t miss the hopeful note in Liam’s voice if he tried and he’s not trying.

‘Yeah, let’s get some chocolate cake.’

There’s this light in Liam’s eyes that Louis might be afraid is reflected in his own so he does the only thing he can think about it. He nudges at Liam’s foot. Liam nudges back and his toe brushes against Louis’s ankle bone. ‘Set then?’

‘Yeah.’ Liam’s already looking around for their waiter. He doesn’t move his feet back from they’re held between Louis’s. And when he makes sure to order the bottle of water that Louis didn’t even tell him he wanted, Louis jumps to order some wine as well. 

After all, why the hell not?

*

@1D_Sugarscape: RT @Sugarscape: Liam and Louis spotted out by Covent Garden! on.sugarsca.pe/Y6XF

[view image: Grainy phone picture of Liam and Louis ducking into a doorway. (via Instagram) instagr.am/p/Vds87Sdks1K/ #LILO SIGHTING]

@NiallOfficial: RT @Sugarscape: Liam and Louis spotted out by Covent Garden! on.sugarsca.pe/Y6XF LOL JEALOUS LADS! @Louis_Tomlinson @The_Real_Payne

*

to: Hazza  
 _Hazzz! did you see?_

to: Nialler:  
 _I can’t believe they got caught. Zayn had the right idea, going out of town._

to: Hazza  
 _tbh idthink they know._

to: Nialler  
 _LOL. fair point!_

 

*

The food is unsurprisingly great. Liam hadn’t doubted it would be. Sarah doesn’t hate them _that_ much, and she’s one of the team who keeps joking that they’re growing boys and all that. It’s a ridiculously posh restaurant; one his mother would surely have a little Moment over should he ever bring her and Da. Maybe for the next Mother’s Day he’s around for. Across him, Louis is smiling, vibrating slightly in his seat, the wine they ordered making him a bit giddy, as it always does, and he’s twirling some of Liam’s ravioli around his fork. 

Liam’s cardi is falling off of Louis’s shoulders, dragging the neck of the shirt with it a bit. He’s pushed the sleeves up his forearms. Ten minutes into the first course - of seven! Somewhere Niall would be jealous, or actually, considering things, maybe not - he asked Liam for his cardi because comfortable seating and good food aside the air was going a bit cool and Louis was only in a thin shirt. ( _Liam’s_ shirt.)

Now Liam’s cardi is keeping Louis warm and Liam’s glad he wore a long sleeved top. Part of Liam also thinks it’s unfair how much better Louis looks in his clothes than he does.

And as to why Louis is eating half of Liam’s food - 

They might split their meals in a very _unposh_ fashion, but Louis’s meat had looked _really_ good - Harry really did spoil them all with his _Come Dine With Me_ dreams - and Louis had tried unsuccessfully to sneakily steal bits of lobster from Liam’s plate. In the end bread plates were appropriated and passed across the table. 

The venison had been great, poor Bambi, but Louis waited until he finished his food before starting in on Liam’s. 

‘Top me up, love?’ Louis asks, nodding to his wine glass. 

They have a bottle and it’s mostly gone. Liam knows if it wasn’t for the film Louis would already be asking for another and they wouldn’t be taking the cake to go. Well, they might not. He checks his watch as he reaches for the wine bottle. They bought tickets for the last showing so they have some time. A good thing, too, because he’s pretty sure they have a couple more courses to go. He hasn’t really been paying attention to the plates coming and going. 

He pours Louis his wine and a little bit for himself; he still drinks a lot slower than the rest of the lads.

Louis smiles at him. Under the table Liam feels his leg being bumped in silent thanks. He pokes Louis’s calf with the toe of his shoe. Louis’s grin brightens. 

‘It was a good idea to go out,’ he says. Liam tries to fight his blush. His idea of going out with Louis tonight hadn’t been quite _this_ , especially not tonight, considering that it was, well. This is a bit more than the simple film, shared popcorn and Maltesers idea he had had in mind. 

Liam fingers the edge of his plate. ‘I know I sorta dragged you out-’

He’s cut off by his feet being tugged closer to Louis under the table to the point he has to shift his chair closer to the table. 

‘ _Liam_ ,’ and he knows that tone well. It has to be said he hears it a lot less often than he used to. Still, it’s familiar and he can’t help but duck his head a little. He catches how Louis shifts forward and lifts his hand. The table isn’t tiny, the space of the restaurant allows for comfortable and almost spacious setting, but still it’s a table for two. Louis leans closer and rubs his head once, fingers quick and soft, hand drifting down to tug on the cuff of Liam’s sleeve. The actions are as familiar as his tone. When he pulls back his fingers slide across Liam’s wrist bone. Liam bites the inside of his bottom lip.

‘I’m glad you did,’ Louis says, eyes shining, ‘I mean, yes, I was doing incredibly important things at home, but I’d rather be here, ‘course I would.’

Liam giggles, decides to blame it on the wine even though he knows better. ‘Oh? What were you up to?’ trying to sound incredibly interested. Maybe he is, a little.

Louis sighs, dramatically, and practically sprawls on his chair. A waiter slips by just then taking their plates and informing them the next course will just be by; refills their water glasses. Liam will never get used to that. Louis waits until he’s drifted off to answer. 

‘X-box,’ he sighs with some longing. He turns his head into the edge of his chair, towards the doors. The candle and low lighting catches along his jaw in a way Liam’s fairly sure all of the photographers that have shot them would sigh at.

He manages not to, but only barely.

Smiling, Liam nods very seriously, decides to be incredibly improper and rests his elbow on the table, chin against his closed fist. ‘I know exactly what you mean. I was cleaning out my Inbox.’

Louis’s eyes snap at him. For a second Liam can see the laughter, the joke that’s growing in Louis’s brain, by the pull of his lips ready to break out into a perfectly constructed Louis Tomlinson comeback. It doesn’t come though. Louis’s eyes go all sharp. He licks his lips like he’s parched which Liam knows he can’t be since they still have a quarter bottle of wine and refreshed water on the table in front of them. But maybe it can be possible since suddenly his mouth feels rather dry, too. 

Then Louis is reaching for his wine and Liam wonders if he imagined that strange beat. He grabs for his water.

‘Well, I _was_ about to the beat the level.’ Louis waves his wine glass around magnanimously.

‘Ah! Life changing stuff, clearly,’ he mutters, dry, around his glass.

‘Glad to see you agree.’ Louis’s eyes shine, but not like they had just seconds ago. It’s familiar now, softer, and part of Liam can’t help but want to see that other look again. Maybe even learn what it meant.

The next course appears before them. Louis raises his brows comically at the the plates. Strawberries, jelly, and some sort of... foam? Liam mirrors the look, grinning back.

*

In the end they’ve eaten so much that they decide to split the cake - Liam loves chocolate, of course they were going to have it - and forgo the cheese course. The wine is gone and if they weren’t still planning to head to the film after Louis would try to convince Liam to go with him to the hotel bar, but, to be honest, he’s actually looking forward a few mindless hours of one liners and watching things blow up. 

Absently, he fiddles with the candle holder, spinning it around on the table. It’s got little red and white stones it. How thematic. 

He pokes his thumbs through the holes Liam’s worn into the cardi. He’s full, wine-warmed, and mostly watching as Liam finishes the cake. 

He hears Liam hum quietly and slides his gaze to him. He didn’t shave this morning, Louis can tell by the bit of shadow clinging to his jaw that he normally isn’t allowed keep around, especially since the buzz cut. Liam ‘Puppy’ Payne with Bad Boy Stubble? God forbid! The sight of it makes Louis grin.

‘What?’ Liam asks, dragging the word out, almost whispering it, like they’re hanging out alone at one of theirs instead of a semi-crowded restaurant. 

Louis shakes his head, crossing his ankles together, Liam’s feet trapped in the space between his feet, and shakes them side to side. Liam’s cheeks fold, teeth flashing, and Louis can feel him joining in to the movement of their swaying feet. He puts the fork down, sliding his plate back a little. 

‘You going to want some coffee, tea?’

And not for the first time Louis can help but be pleased at how far they’ve come. How well Liam can read him now.

‘You saying I look tired, Payne?’ But really, he feels pleasantly full to the point of wanting to just snuggle up and well, it’s a good thing they’re going to see a film now, isn’t it? Nothing is more soothing as some well timed explosions and a Liam cuddle.

‘I don’t want you to fall asleep in the cinema...’ he trails off, the space between his brows crinkling, and Louis can pretty much see what’s going through Liam’s head. He sits up straighter and leans over, swiping some leftover bit of cream smeared on the plate. 

‘Nope, no. We’re not going home yet, I’m not so old I can’t go out after a silly old seven course meal!’

Liam snorts, ‘Of course, so, expresso? I normally don’t mind you drooling on my shoulder, but...’

‘Ha. Ha. And the bill.’

Liam smirks at him and glances at his watch. ‘We might still even catch the previews,’ he mentions, excitedly, like it’s the only reason to even go see the film. Louis rolls his eyes, but smiles; ugh, sometimes he’s so bloody cute.

*

from: Niall  
 _Zayn! You won’t believe it!_

from: Harry  
 _We have been BETRAYED!!!_

*

Bill paid, they decide that they don’t want to brave the paps again. It’s late, and Liam’s weather app tells them it’s raining a bit and all they want to do is head off, quietly, no fuss no muss, and watch their film in peace. Louis’s eyes are bouncing from the door to the kitchen and Liam knows exactly what he’s going to ask their waiter when he comes round for the bill, which after a small tug of war (‘I’m paying for yours.’ ‘Lou.’ ‘No, it’s fair you see. I’ll pay for yours. You’ll pay for mine, and it will still be nice and even.’ ‘Um, okay, fine.’) they decide to split it between them. 

Their waiter, nice lad, tells them after one or two pointed questions from Louis that if they’d like to thank the chef he can get them into the kitchen, which has its own entrance. Fancy that! As they move even less people pay attention to them now than they did when they first arrived. That’s the power of pink champagne and mood lighting, Liam guesses.

And they move to kitchen number two of the night.

Just like the Covent Garden kitchen this one is overly warm, warmer once they’re given back their coats, but at least they don’t have to climb out of any windows this time. Liam pats down his pockets, making sure everything he left in them is still there. They make sure to actually thank the chef and the food _was_ bloody good, and politely ask to keep their names off of twitter until tomorrow. They get a wink in return. 

They also manage to get Harry a copy of the menu for him to play with later with personalised notes. Liam and Louis grin at each other over that, because who are are your best _most caring_ mates in the entire world, Harry Styles? 

They’ve spent a lot of bloody time in kitchens tonight, Liam thinks, especially for two people who aren’t very skilled at, well, cooking. They don’t speak of the Great Grill Incident of 2011 anymore. Harry and Niall still shudder. Liam is getting better, though; Harry lets him help with the fry ups and the Styles Sunday roast at his most of the time now.

They call Mike from the kitchen. Well, Liam tries. Louis shakes his head and Liam phones Sarah from Louis’s phone, since she’s right at the top of his recent calls anyway. ‘Next level, dear hellion of a boy?’

He hears the grin in her voice and wonders if they’re the only ones who’ve warmed themselves up with a bit of booze by this point. ‘It’s me, Sarah, Liam.’

‘Ah!’ Sarah says, and Liam hears a desk chair turning on its wheels. ‘Well, that changes the plan.’

‘Oh?’ Liam shoots Louis a look, but he’s got his head tilted at the knife rack and mixer attachments in curiosity, and they have got to get out of the bloody kitchens. There’s only so much luck on their side when they’re in the same place as sharp objects and expensive toys, and there’s plenty of video shoots to prove it. 

‘No way I could get you to go with the riskier plan, I’d need Lou for that,’ Sarah says quickly into the phone and Liam wants to say she’s wrong, but, well. He loves to go along with Louis’s pranks more than... Travis. He might grin at his own private joke, but well. He really does love Louis’s pranks; most of the time. 

‘You have another plan?’ Liam asks, watching Louis tap a mixer attachment so it turns like part of a hanging mobile. 

‘Liam, you know I have _four_ plans, minimum,’ Sarah replies briskly, though her voice is very jolly. ‘Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.’

As Liam listens, he sees Louis watching him over the knife rack, which is only a bit disturbing because he knows Louis has lived with Harry, so he’s less likely to touch kitchen supplies than other playthings, because Harry enacted aversion therapy. Louis looks at him right back and there’s something like a slow, Grinch-like grin forming. If his hair weren’t a bit of a disaster, Liam thinks Louis’s ears would be visibly curling or something.

And it’s a kitchen, so the temperature is starting to mess with Liam. It’s the temperature, obviously. He tugs at his collar to loosen it. Lou’s eyes drop to his neck and back up again with a crooked smirk and raised eyebrows. 

‘Right, yeah. You’ll sort it?’

‘Li, get out of the kitchen before Louis breaks shit or starts a food fight,’ Sarah’s voice is dry but not unfond. Liam hears that a lot when it’s management and Louis. ‘You can afford to fix it but I don’t think even you can _nice_ your way out of Gordon Fucking Ramsay’s flagship kitchen without back up.’ 

‘He’s not actually the chef here, he just-’

‘It’s the principle of the matter, love.’

Liam snorts, says goodbye and hangs up, because anytime he’s tempted not to he remembers the youtube video about people in films never saying goodbye, then looks at Louis, who is very close with his clasped hands on Liam’s shoulder and head tilted. It’d be an innocent look except for the person wearing it. 

‘What did Sarah say about me?’ 

Liam levels a look at Louis. ‘You’re still her favourite, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘She didn’t say that!’ Louis looks scandalised and happy all at once. 

‘Near enough,’ Liam answers and turns Louis to the kitchen door with a hand around his waist. ‘We’re heading out the back. Decoy car will go from the side so we don’t get followed to the cinema.’ 

Louis leers at Liam over his shoulder as they wave to the chef and staff. ‘And that’s embarrassing enough to blush, is it?’ Louis lightly pats his cheek as Liam rolls his eyes. 

‘Um.’

Louis has his phone out, looking at his text messages, and crows. He puts the phone in front of Liam’s nose. 

_You went to GFR’s without me? I’m hurt and you’re welcome._

*

to: Nialler, Zee  
 _I can’t believe they went to GFR! Tossers!_

to: Harry, Naill  
 _what /are/ you two on about?_

to: Zee, Nialler  
 _LI AND LOUIS. THEY’RE ON A DATE! Check N’s twitter!_

to: Z, Hazza  
 _https://twitter.com/NaillOfficial/status/3984377347293731_

_they SO got caught_

to: Harry, Niall  
 _OH! Did they think nobody would notice them going out? Tonight? Together!_

to: Zee, Nialler  
 _Clearly not._

to: Harry, Niall  
 _If they had wanted to keep it a secret from the internet they should have told us! We would have helped!_

to: Zee, Nialler  
 _YOU’RE IN PARIS, ZAYN_

to: Harry, Niall  
 _IN SPIRIT!_

to: Z, Hazza  
 _LOL  
don’t worry, lads, i’ve got a plan. haz? it’s very dependent on you._

to: Nialler, Zee  
 _I love it already._

*

@Harry_Styles: Let’s celebrate every moment of love, even when it’s nearly gone! Any favourite #heartbreaklyrics? 

@Harry_Styles: Is it still you and me against the world? / All I've got to lose are my teeth - #heartbreaklyrics

@Harry_Styles: Turn our music down and we whisper, / "Say what you're thinking right now." - #heartbreaklyrics

@Harry_Styles: some great suggestions coming in! Keep it up! #heartbreaklyrics Out with my boys @grimmers & @edsheeran for a special night!

@Harry_Styles: Sing me something soft, / sad and delicate / or loud and out of key, / sing me anything. #heartbreaklyrics 

*

to: Z  
 _OH FFS. when i said make the internet look at him instead of L and L i did not mean this_

to: Nialler  
 _mate he’s close to abort mission status i mean there’s a limit_  
twitter.com/harry_styles/status/8476856984

to: Z  
 _‘my heart’s a stereo / it beats for you / so listen close’ IS HE FUCKING KIDDING_

to: Nialler  
 _‘here I am at the end of me / trying to hold on to what I see’ defcon 1 deffuckingcon1 stop him hack his twitter do SOMETHING_

to: Z  
 _sorry mate catching cab can you break the internet for a minute?_

to: Nialler  
 _on it. Perrie’s helping._

to: Z  
 _keep it clean. ish. oh fuck he’s onto panic! and my chem. as filthy as you can, Z, you’re our only hope._

*

to: Zee, Nialler  
 _ZEE AND PERRIE K-I-S-S-I-N-GEE, U LOOK SO QT ON THE BAL CON EEE._

to: Zee, Nialler  
 _roses are red, violets are blue, shut the front door, internet, we broke uuuuuuuu_

to: Z, Hazza  
 _that perrie is a champ._

*

@PerrieEdwards: Je t’aime!!!! @zaynmalik

[view image: Zayn and Perrie’s half lit faces pressed together, looking like they’ve both been kissing heavily, maybe more, if how Perrie’s dress strap is hanging off her shoulder is anything to go by, the edge of the Eiffel Tower just in the background over their heads.] 

[21,679 RTs, 23,122 favourites]

*

The alley’s damp, dark too, the street a few metres away, leading them to one of the side streets by the hotel. Louis stuffs his hands into his jacket’s pockets, fingers curling inside the sleeves into Liam’s cardi. Next to him Liam is google mapping directions for them.

‘It should be a twenty minute walk to the cinema from here, but we can see about a cab when we get on the street, yeah?’

Louis hums and leans into Liam’s side. He shuffles closer when he feels an arm wrap around his back. Liam’s fingers edge across one of his pocket and thank god that’s the empty one.

‘Brilliant,’ he turns his chin into Liam’s shoulder. 

The few lights in their nice dark, damp alley catch on Liam’s cheekbone and bottom lip. Louis smiles. 

‘Hey, Li?’

‘Hmm?,’ he turns to look at Louis and they’re so very close, Louis realises. Liam’s head is inclined towards him (like it always is, a little voice that sounds a bit too much like certain band members) and well, his face is right there. Open, fond, and so very Liam. Louis is so, so happy right now that they decided to go out tonight.

He rolls up a little and presses his lips against Liam’s, soft. Sweet, he thinks, almost bloody romantic. Later when Liam asks why that’s what he’ll tell him, too. That and _I wanted to_. He doesn’t close his eyes though so he can see as Liam’s eyes widen, surprise and shock flashing in them, but also something undeniably warm and familiar that makes Louis heart stutter. Louis can feel how the hand by his side tightens, how the fingers dig in because Liam’s hold is always steady and sure, but he’s always very careful because Liam is also strong and he never pokes or hits back as hard as he can. Except right now he’s surprised and even through the thick denim Louis can feel the pressure of each finger, the heaviness of Liam’s palm. And it’s not pushing him away.

It pulls him just that extra bit closer. He has to steady his hands at Liam’s hips when Liam kisses him back just as soft. He suspects it’s his turn to look shocked, except in the last five seconds since he decided to kiss Liam he’s kinda been hoping this would happen.

Their eyes haven’t closed - Louis can almost see himself reflected in Liam’s eyes, they’re so close - and they both pull away at the same time. Louis twists his mouth to stop the grin that’s threatening to overtake it. He’s not sure he succeeds. Liam presses his lips together, like he’s trying savour the kiss. His eyes are crinkling. 

And it’s probably something like ten bloody degrees out but all Louis feels right now is way too warm, the fluttery feeling in his chest not helping at all. It’s not like it’s even the first time he’s kissed Liam, but every other time there’s been something to play it off against and every feeling after was immediately locked away in that box where he puts everything he _does not think about_.

Tonight, though, it’s just them. 

The bloody box has ripped open.

There are a lot of Liam thoughts in it.

‘Thanks for dinner,’ Louis says, leaning back, as casual as he can. Liam’s arm is still around his waist. Louis could pretend to dramatically faint and that arm would still be as sturdy as ever at his back. (He knows this because he’s done it before.) Curving his lips, he can’t help thinking how he wants to kiss Liam again so he does exactly that. This time is quicker, lighter; a peck, really. Practically how they say hello and goodbye most days.

Today is not most days, Louis is becoming more frightenly aware of.

Liam blinks. He stares at Louis, throat working. His coat collar isn’t buttoned all the way up and he has no scarf. Louis reaches up to adjust it and brushes his thumb against Liam’s birthmark. Liam swallows again, still staring at Louis.

‘You’re welcome,’ he says a bit hesitant, because it’s Liam of course he does. But Louis can see him trying to make sense of everything. (Louis sympathises. He’s having quite the revelatory moment himself.)

Maybe he shouldn’t be smirking, he thinks, but it’s a fond smirk, and Liam does have a tendency to overthink things. Turning his body so he’s cuddled up to Liam’s front, he wraps both arms around Liam’s waist. The fact it’s automatic how Liam’s other arm curls around Louis’s shoulders, holding him in a loose hug, only makes his smirk widened, soften even. He tips his chin up.

‘Aren’t you going to thank me too?’ Brow raised, he tries to keep his voice level, but maybe, _possibly_ , it all comes out a bit hopeful, God help him. 

Liam hasn’t stopped staring at him, and Louis is not sure what he just read in Louis’s face but his his eyes do that crinkly thing even more - the way they get when they’re blinded by the all the flashing cameras on stage and Louis can’t believe he’s getting that look, the awe of it; he’s not sure he even deserves it, but- 

That thought gets cut sharply off because Liam is kissing him, _again_. He’s kissing Louis and grinning and okay that makes it not much of kiss, but Louis can feel himself grinning back and maybe it’s the _greatest kiss ever_.

This time it’s Liam leaning back and Louis follows. Liam’s got such a nice mouth. Liam pulls back again, and starts saying something. He stops himself though, leans back in, barely brushing their lips together, and Louis huffs a laugh against Liam’s lips. He doesn’t even get a chance to kiss back this time.

‘Thank you for dinner, Lou.’ Louis wants to melt because Liam has this _voice_ sometimes. It’s very melt-worthy. He wants to hop up and curl himself around Liam, press him back against the dirty alley walls and not stop snogging for the foreseeable future. It takes practically all of his very tenuous hold on his self control not to do so. Instead he leans up and curls his arms around Liam’s neck and pulls him in for one hard, quick kiss.

They have a film to get to.

‘Well, Li, you are _very_ welcome. I do hope you weren’t planning to watch much of the film because I’m planning to snog you through it all.’

Liam giggles, pressing his forehead against Louis’s. His brows crinkle. Ugh, so cute. ‘Wait, we’re still going?’

Louis almost says no. He _almost_ says ‘sod it, let’s go back to mine, snog and do dirty things all night’, but. There’s something about making out with Liam in a darkened theatre that’s quite appealing. Louis knows he’s a bit of a bastard, and he’s dangerously close to pushing across a line, but it feels worth it.

‘Liam Payne, to think I took you for a gentleman!’ Louis crows, nudging at Liam’s shoulder, absolutely loving how even in the darkened alley he can tell Liam’s blushing from the way his neck feels heated against Louis’s hands and how he ducks his chin. Louis rises to his tip toes to press a kiss on Liam’s forehead, then his nose and one last on in his lips.

‘Come on,’ he pulls back, reaching down to grasp at Liam’s hand and shakes it between them. ‘I want to see how much we can snog for and still understand the plot of the film.’

He’s already heading out of the alley, Liam barely a step behind, moving to keep up. ‘Louis! No! We are not snogging in the cinema.’ He tugs Louis back to fall into step with him. Louis rolls his eyes and lifts Liam’s watch up. They’re going to have to find a taxi if they’re going to make Liam’s previews. Louis is not fussed about skipping them, but... more time to snog.

Turning and walking backwards, their connected hands swinging between them, Louis waggles his eyebrows. ‘We’ll see about that, Payner.’

Liam groans and tugs on their hands, pulling Louis back towards him. Their chests bump. The end of the alley is literally about two feet away from Louis’s back and if Liam’s casual show of strength turned him on it’s nothing compared to how he feels a second later at the firm pressure of Liam’s lips against Louis’s, fingers curving along his jaw. Maybe he wasn’t the only one with thoughts about dirty alley walls. It’s almost too heady to think about.

‘Tommo, _no_ ,’ and honestly Louis could have never imagined teasing _while_ kissing Liam would feel so natural, so fun. So... _them_.

Louis rolls his eyes, mutters a sulky ‘fine’ and makes a nasty face. Liam eyes him, but leads out of the alley. They walk a few streets before they find a black cab and it’s not until their inside Louis notices that their fingers are still intertwined. He leans over and bites at Liam’s shoulder, grinning, before resting his head in the same spot.

Then their phones vibrate.

*

to: Curly  
 _Babe, you okay?  
Who’s letting you listen to Panic!? Ed knows better!_

to: Haz  
 _hazzz? u alrightt lovee?_

to: Nialler, Zee  
 _I MIGHT HAVE GONE TOO FAR! They just texted!_

to: Harry, Nialler  
 _FIX IT._

to: Hazza, Z  
 _GOT IT COVERED!_

to: Li, Lou  
 _I GOT HAZZA, DON’T WORRY!  
Meeting up with him, Ed and Nick!_

to: Nialler  
 _Sorrrry, Ni! I know you had plans!_

to: Hazza  
 _no worries. it's not like TWW is about Obama, babe._

*

At the cinema they split up for a few seconds that feel more stretched out than normal. Louis retrieves the tickets and then Liam goes in to find their seats - he really doesn’t want to miss the previews - while Louis goes to grab them some water. Dinner had filled them up, but when Louis comes back he tosses a bag of Cadbury Buttons on Liam’s lap. 

‘For later,’ is all he says then moves into cuddle at Liam’s side. Liam shoves the chocolate in his coat pocket, knowing that ‘later’ meant they’re for him to take home. He ignore the feel of paper against his fingers.

Liam has never pulled out the tired Over The Shoulder Move (none of the five of them have ever needed to justify that), but he’s not feeling as if he’s got a choice in the matter with Louis cuddling into his shoulder. If he likes how it feels, to hold Louis close, like they’re on a proper date - which are they now? This, he decides, is a thought for later - then that’s just because it’s more comfortable this way. And if Louis grins up him, whose eyes should not look this blue in the darkened theatre, like he’s won a prize well, that’s all right, too, isn’t it?

‘Tell me you’ve never thought about getting off in the cinema?’

Liam has to make a conscious effort not to shift his hips. He slides Louis a look. 

‘What makes you think I haven’t?’

Louis’s eyes get all big and shocked and for a second Liam thinks _ha! Got you there!_ but he’s forgotten, _it’s Louis_. The surprise look shutters off his face just as the opening credits start and the look in his eyes turns all... flinty. 

All he says is, ‘Huh’ like he’s considering something. 

Liam knows that look. 

And doesn’t trust it. 

‘Louis,’ he whisper, ‘stop it. Whatever it is, because I told you I’m not snogging you in the theatre like we’re bloody teenagers.’

‘You are though,’ Louis laughs. 

‘Not the point. No-’

‘Fine, fine, I’ll behave,’ he says, and settles against Liam’s side, except his eyes still have that look. 

To his credit Louis lasts about twenty minutes, seemingly content with snuggling at Liam’s side, toying with his shirt. But apparently not even The Terminator can dissuade The Tommo for long.

That’s when Liam feels Louis press up against him, mouth warm at corner of Liam’s jaw and whispers, ‘So, I might have lied about not snogging you in the theatre’ before he licks at Liam’s pulse point and bites lightly at his skin. Liam doesn’t turn his head. He moans softly, biting his lip, forcing his eyes to stay open.

Thankfully on screen there’s another loud explosion. 

He’s not actually that surprised that Louis had lied.

Honestly, he had assumed so. 

Maybe even hoped. 

Darting his eyes quickly around the mostly empty theatre - tonight is not the night many people go watch action films, thank God - Liam’s rather glad that when Louis bought their tickets he sat them practically at the back. Nobody is around them. Still, public. He has to at least try to pretend to be responsible. 

‘Louis, no.’ It’s a problem when half of that gets lost in a sigh as Louis drops a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s another bigger problems when he can feel Louis’s smile against his cheek. 

‘Lee-yum,’ Louis shifts closer; he’s already propped up the armrest between them so he’s completely plastered against Liam’s side, but now he’s throwing a leg over Liam’s thigh. It’s completely automatic, completely, really, just a reaction born of countless interviews and sharing smaller and smaller sofas that Liam places his hand on Louis’s knee. Louis’s smile grows and he noses Liam’s cheekbone. ‘If you really, _really_ want to watch the film I promise I’ll be good,’ Liam snorts, half turning his face to eye Louis, who just continues on, ‘ _or_ we can come back and watch it this weekend. Even bring Niall to chaperone if you’re so worry over your innoc-’

And yeah, that’s it for Liam. 

He covers Louis’s mouth just as somebody on screen - he really wasn’t paying attention at all, let’s be honest - pulls out a machine gun and starts shooting. Now he won’t say it’s perfect timing but it does help muffle Louis’s squeak of surprise. Liam swallows the rest of the sound and he can’t deny it’s rather heady to know that Louis made that sound because of him. That Louis is leaning closer, the space between their seats a mere memory, and licking into Liam’s mouth and it’s _okay_. He turns into Louis’s body, sliding one hand into the small hairs at the back of his neck and tilts his face up so Liam can better trace the roof of his mouth with his tongue. There’s still a hint of wine and chocolate on Louis’s breath. Liam wants to lick it all away.

The leg over Liam’s thigh pressed tighter and Liam fits his hand just under the bend of Louis’s knee. 

One of Louis’s hand is trapped between them, curling into Liam’s shirt, but the other tracing Liam’s collar, slipping his fingers under material of his shirt. Liam can feel as Louis’s finger pop the buttons.They stay like that kissing slow and thick and wet until the next too loud explosion shakes their attention and reminds them of where they are.

‘I wanted to be the first person you got off with at the cinema,’ Louis mutters low against Liam’s mouth.

Liam giggles, _he should have known_ , ‘Sorry,’ he nudges Louis forehead with his and ducks down to nip at Louis’s jaw. He’s got such a nice one after all. ‘If it makes you feel better, you’re the first I’ve ever snogged in an alley.’ The film is loud but they’re pressed close enough together that they can mostly hear each other fine.

Louis snickers against his ear, ‘Doesn’t count... not there long enough.’ He bites at Liam’s earlobe, sucking on it lightly. Liam buries his head in Louis’s neck to muffle his groan. Louis never plays fair and Liam hasn’t even told him that was _a spot_. But from the way that Liam sucks at his neck and shift their hips close Liam thinks Louis might have guessed. 

Because Louis’s neck is lovely and that little place by his jaw might be Liam’s new favourite place in the world, he decides to forgive him. ‘Next alley way, I’ll make it up to you.’ 

He can feel Louis shake with delight, short nails finding their way in the opening of Liam’s shirt and scratching softly. His other hand is curved around Liam’s neck, keeping him close. Liam’s not planning to go anywhere.

‘Liam, Liam, Liam,’ he murmurs by Liam’s ear. Normally it would sound mockingly scolding - _tsk, tsk, tsk,_ ; Louis being Louis poking at Liam for being Liam - except now Louis’s voice is too low and his name sounds a bit more like chant, a prayer, and Liam wants to hear Louis say his name like that again, louder, softer, slower, faster. He’s half-hard in his jeans and he wants to hear Louis say his name like he’s wrecked Louis and-

Another explosion goes off. 

Liam pulls back from Louis one last wet kiss against the lovebite he’s probably just kissed into Louis’s skin. Louis blinks up at him. Even in the too-dark of the theatre he’s so bloody gorgeous. Blue eyes shining, pupils blown wide, mouth shiny and wet. 

‘Lou,’ he starts, but he doesn’t know what else to say. Doesn’t know how to explain just how fucking full his chest and head feel at the moment and it’s all because of Louis. 

Louis only shakes his head, and pulls Liam back down. The kiss is softer this time; Louis presses him back against his seat and sucks and bites at Liam’s mouth like _this_ is his dessert. Like they have all the time in the world. ‘I know, Li, I know, me too.’ And even though Liam didn’t quite himself what he had been going or trying to say, he thinks that yes, Louis _does_ know.

Liam licks his lips, which considering how close Louis’s mouth is it means he kind of licks Louis’s too.

‘We should maybe, you know, try and watch the film.’ Liam feels breathless, like he’s been twenty rounds in the ring, four hours on stage and then ran laps around his neighbourhood.

Louis giggles, still against Liam’s side and chest, still pressing his smile against Liam’s mouth, still staring at Liam’s with that fucking gorgeous sparkle in his eyes. 

He lowers his tone, but Liam can hear him - Liam can _only_ hear him, ‘Okay, fine, but every time there’s an explosion or gunshot going off I’m kissing you. Anywhere I want.’ He means it, of course he does, but there’s something different now and Liam knows that Louis won’t push too much. And he _knows_ what that means, especially for Louis, who loves to push. 

Liam nods. Sometimes you have to let Louis have his wins. And it’s not like Liam hates the idea. 

Louis kisses him again, quick and sweet, making Liam grin. 

‘You know, Li, if you had played your cards right, you just might have gotten a handjob out of it.’ 

‘Louis,’ he hisses, but now he can’t stop thinking about Louis’s hand around his dick. This time he can’t even pretend to hide how he needs to shift his hips and press his palm over his crotch. Louis, the bastard, only licks his cheek, but Liam doesn’t miss how tightly their thighs are still pressed together and the bulge in Louis’s jeans. Christ, now he’s thinking of his hand on Louis’s dick.

He’s not sure if this is the worst or the best film he’s ever watched.

*

If anyone in London - and anyone in Louis’s building - actually cares about noise tonight, he’s deciding he doesn’t. The strength that Liam has very carefully not been using when he touches Louis is all there, all present in the extra push he gives the door, as he backs Louis through it the very second he’s keyed in his alarm code. The door makes a particularly impressive slam against the wall as Louis reaches out and steadies himself on Liam’s excellent biceps. Liam, for his sins, braces him with flat palms curling around Louis’s elbows, a useful sort of pose for walking him backwards down his own hall and kicking the door shut behind him. 

‘They hate us,’ Louis mouths against his neck with a groan. ‘Hate. You said I was her favourite.’

‘Sam is on the other side of the Atlantic and she could totally tell, I don’t know how, but you sounded more smug than usual?’ Liam answers, knocking their foreheads together gently and pulling Louis to him by his belt loops. Louis is very much a fan of how Liam’s knuckles have to ruck up Liam’s own tshirt to do this, rubbing along the bare skin above his waistband. 

‘Think the lads pulled the paps off us?’ Louis replies, catching his breath and leaning back against the wall. 

‘I think they made Sarah’s life difficult for an hour when she thought she was getting a quiet one,’ Liam says in a low voice with a grin. 

‘My bad, international spontaneous cinema trips, sorry-’ Louis lets go of Liam’s biceps and puts both hands on the sides of Liam’s face where his jaw meets his neck. ‘-’m not sorry.’ He grins up at him and tugs Liam’s left. ‘Stairs, love. Don’t fall now.’ 

Liam groans and lets Louis push his jacket from his shoulders, mobile phones falling onto the carpeted floor, ‘Why stairs? Why did you have to get _stairs?_ ’

‘I thought it’d be cool, you know, flat, with stairs,’ Louis defends in a ragged voice, shrugging off his own jacket and raising an eyebrow. He stills and waits for Liam to toe off his own toes. Liam looks up and blinks. Louis leans forward and settles his elbows on Liam’s shoulders with as wicked a smirk as he can conjure, which is very wicked indeed, he hopes. ‘That and this.’

Liam swallows, their eyes level, as Louis is standing two shallow stairs up with his weight leaning forward on Liam’s shoulders and Louis looks down to see how Liam’s toes are curling through his socks into the carpet of the hall. 

It’s his turn to take a breath, then. 

He looks up from looking at the gap between their feet to find Liam staring at him, eyes wide and open and lips slightly parted. 

That’s all it takes, really, because Liam steps up the stairs and closes the gap with a bruising, direct sort of kiss, pushing Louis against the wall of the staircase. They’re still sort of on a level, except for how Louis isn’t entirely sure his feet are touching the carpet, because his blood isn’t exactly rushing to his feet. 

‘I like the stairs,’ Louis says, as Liam pushes his head back against the wall to get at his neck, and really. ‘But there’s a whole bedroom at the top of them. Maybe a couple. I haven’t counted late-’

Liam pulls back and Louis objectively speaking doesn’t sag against the wall. No. It’s just - well. Liam’s so _determined_ and _earnest_ about things. 

Apparently _most_ things. 

They’re standing in the half light between the light in the hall and the dark of the rooms upstairs, and the light is enough to catch every edge of Liam’s cheekbones, his jaw, and the place on his hip where his jeans have fallen at his hip and his shirt has creased from being caught in Louis’s fist. 

Louis finds his clenched fist and tugs, turning and stumbling up his own staircase like he’s forgotten its dimensions. He’d love to just get on with it on the stairs, he’s not fussy like that, he’s even considering the carpet burn a necessary sacrifice at this point, but there’s something stubborn in the set of Liam’s jaw and the insistent way he’s got his hands on Louis’s hips that says something about doing this _properly_ without Liam actually saying _anything_ and it makes Louis want to straddle him on the edge of a proper bed just to work the shivers out of his spine. 

He’s not above stopping them twice on the way to make short work of Liam’s jeans and get rid of his shirt. Louis had already worked the top two buttons of his shirt loose in the cinema to get to the stubble on his neck; he likes to finish what he starts. 

‘Ticklish, you arse,’ Liam chokes out while Louis reaches behind him for the bedroom door handle. Louis grins against his neck and turns the handle so that Liam falls backwards into the bedroom, catching his hand at the last minute and tugging him back. They’re sloppy, staggering and off balance, but somehow nobody’s broken yet, and they’re swinging like a pendulum towards the bed. 

Liam sits down on the edge of the bed with a heavy thud, possibly because it’s less sitting and more careening into. He puts his hands behind himself before he falls onto his back and Louis’s breath catches, because he’s still carrying the smile he had against Louis’s mouth a second before. He lost his shirt and his jeans on the way, and _oh._

In the second before Liam’s eyebrows rise and he gets that self-conscious look in his eyes that Louis always wants to kiss away, there’s just enough time for Louis to run a find and replace of every dirty fantasy he’s ever had about a centrefold, replacing them with Liam, sitting on the edge of his bed in Calvin Kleins and sitting back on bent elbows. It should be _illegal,_ how fit he looks, hair short, chin raised, knees apart. 

And what’s Louis supposed to do with that except fit himself there, his own bare legs scraping Liam’s as he straddles him and curls around him, back arching as Liam’s hands - cold, they’re bloody cold somehow - and fingertips find his shoulder blades and cover them. 

Louis lifts one hand off of trying to feel up as much of Liam’s back as he can reach and goes for the hem of his tshirt when he feels a larger hand cover his and Liam shakes his head, detaching his mouth from Louis’s for a second. ‘Leave it?’ Liam’s cheeks are bright in the dim light from the hall - they left the door open, not like anyone else is in - and his pupils are utterly blown. 

Louis is about to protest - nothing wrong with his upper body, can’t all have bloody six packs, Liam - when Liam’s hand sneaks up the front of his chest with careful, light brushes of his fingertips across his skin and nipple, then stretches the neckline of the tshirt down to expose more of Louis’s collarbone to Liam’s very thorough tongue and, well, _fuck._

When he’s got a breath to spare, which is longer than he’ll admit, Louis attacks Liam’s neck with his own mouth until Liam is gasping and falling back onto the bed. 

The movement tilts them both and Liam lands with Louis’s weight on his chest and with an ‘oomph.’ 

Louis can’t help it: he laughs. 

Liam stills under him and Louis freezes, thinking all sorts of horrible speed-of-light thoughts about having fucked everything up, before he lets out a laugh of his own. 

Louis shifts up before he loses all circulation in the knee that’s ended up yoga-style under Liam’s thigh and freezes again. This time it’s for an entirely different reason and his throat is so dry he wouldn’t say no to more awkward-making pink champers. 

‘Lou,’ Liam says into the still, warm air between them, one hand flat on Louis’s lower back and the other threading into Louis’s hair from the base of his neck. Louis can feel Liam’s pulse thudding through the hand he has on Liam’s neck and on the side of Liam’s ribcage. Or maybe that’s his own. 

‘Yeah,’ Louis says, turning his head to look down at Liam, ‘yeah, that’s.’

‘Lou,’ Liam says again, more insistently, and Louis feels the hand at the base of his back push down. ‘Move. _Please.’_

He adds the please like he can’t help it, can’t help _being polite_ , and that’s what breaks Louis, makes him shift. It’s only a shift of his hips, it shouldn’t change much, but they both shudder, fabric of their boxers and hipbones tilting against each other, and that’s Liam’s dick hard against his own but for a couple of layers of fabric. 

Louis hopes Liam is the sort to like fun in the mornings, because when Liam pushes up against him again, demanding like Liam never is, Louis knows he’s not going to last anything like a marathon event. Too many light touches at dinner, too much (not enough) time in that alley, _the cinema_ , he feels like he’s trying to crawl out of his own skin to get to all of Liam’s, and that would be a creepy thought, but Liam’s fingers feel like they’re finding live wires rather than veins. 

From the broken sounds Liam is burying in the crook of Louis’s neck as he rocks above him, he’s not the only one. 

‘We’re using the bed wrong,’ Louis grinds out when his knee nearly slips off the edge as they buck particularly roughly, Liam’s fingernails scraping his scalp and pulling a hiss that’s not entirely pain from Louis. 

Liam groans and pulls his hair so they’re meeting each other’s eyes. ‘Now. You’re choosing right _now_ to be -’

‘You wanted to do this _proper_ -like, don’t lie,’ Louis replies, cheeky as he can to cover how Liam’s eyes are dark and his lips are wet and his chest is shuddering with each breath under Louis’s palm. He’s never seen Liam like this, and now that he knows that he can, he’s scared he’s never going to want to stop. 

‘Fine,’ Liam grouses out, ‘Proper-like.’ 

Louis doesn’t bother pushing down the delighted sound in his throat that he made Liam Payne forget his manners in pursuit of orgasms. He’s been wrapped up in wanting to get every bit of his body on some part of Liam’s - some of those notions are marvelously specific, he’ll have to make a list - but he’s realising it’s going to be _fun._

He deliberately launches himself onto his back on his own bed and threads his fingers together behind his head. Louis raises an eyebrow archly as he settles against his pillows, kicking his heels with a smirk. Liam’s eyes flicker satisfyingly quickly between Louis’s face, his dick - a line pushing up against his boxers - and his crossed ankles. 

Liam swallows and follows, pushing his knee between Louis’s legs and settling his foot between Louis’s. Liam puts a warm hand over Louis’s knee. It’s enough like every touch in the cinema, every touch in the restaurant, except better because they’re nearly naked, that Louis feels like his every nerve is on fire. 

Louis rolls his hips up, impatiently, as Liam pushes down and covers his mouth with his own, and suddenly it’s almost enough and nowhere near enough all at once. Louis finds Liam’s waistband with two fingers and dips under. Liam is surprised enough to choke out an indistinct curse and clench his fist at Louis’s side.

‘Up,’ Louis says suddenly, ‘Up!’ Liam sits back, confused and Louis rolls his eyes. ‘Tshirt’s had enough abuse, don’t you think?’ 

Liam smiles slowly and before Louis can do anything about it, he’s pulled the thin material up over Louis’s hair and face, not entirely unlike what they do every time someone dares Liam to do a handstand and he _does it_ , the fool. 

Louis howls in indignation, but it’s a howl cut off halfway when Liam’s tongue is on his nipple the moment his eyes are covered, and there’s a nugget of an idea that he wants to remember, but he’s having a hard time remembering much at all with Liam’s mouth on his chest and his hands reminding Louis that he’s strong enough to hold him down. Louis knew he had a thing for that - he wouldn’t make himself annoying enough to wrestle so often otherwise - but he didn’t know Liam would be so _good_ at it. 

He shrugs out of the tshirt and throws it somewhere to the left of the bed as Liam looks up with a grin. 

‘That was-’ Louis can’t finish the sentence, grabbing the back of Liam’s head to drag him in for a kiss instead, legs tangling so they end up with their boxers pressed together again. 

‘I- can I?’ Louis pauses, pinching experimentally at Liam’s boxers waistband. Liam nods above him and Louis moves, quick and decisive, to roll them over so that Liam’s back is against the mattress and Louis can cover him with touches, kisses and pinches. Louis grins as he presses an open-mouthed, filthy kiss to Liam’s hipbone and Liam goes through swearing into groaning again, and really, Liam-in-bed has such a delightfully filthy mouth that Louis wants to cry. 

Liam is still muttering darkly and scrabbling for purchase on Louis’s back and arms when Louis tugs down his boxers and mouths at the top of his thighs with no warning. Liam makes a sound that’s utterly wretched and Louis would take sympathy on his plight - he’s getting a bit desperate himself - but it’s too good to watch him squirm on the bed beneath him. Louis might not be able to physically hold him down the way Liam can do to Louis, but he can react quickly, and he does. 

Liam’s halfway through a plea in a language approximating the queen’s english when Louis fists his cock into his mouth and hollows his cheeks. 

He supposes he should have built up to it, he reflects as he sinks his mouth a little lower but not as low as Liam would like, as Liam fucks up helplessly into his mouth. He did offer a hand job in the cinema, he thinks reasonably, swirling his tongue around the head of Liam’s cock and feeling the hand he’s got on the bed beside Liam’s hip start to shake. But he’s not a patient sort of fellow, and Liam was lying right there, and Louis wanted to taste and smell and feel every inch of him, then he realised that he _could._

Liam bends his knee and it slides the warm skin of his thigh against Louis’s leg for long enough that he moans around Liam’s cock, which seems to get a positive critical reception from the way Liam’s hips thrust up. Louis is too busy trying really hard to think about things like golf carts and office chairs and the top row of the periodic table, because he’s not going to come before Liam does, not when he’s supposed to be sucking _him_ off, but it’s the way Liam is making tiny, rambling obscene noises that run into each other like notes held by a sustained pedal on a piano, and he’s so close, not helped by Liam’s hand on his shoulder and Louis’s dick against Liam’s leg. 

He should feel bad about that, he supposes, but Louis figures he’s giving Liam a relentless kind of hand job he couldn’t slow down if he tried, and he can feel Liam’s cock against every side of his mouth, so Liam will cope with Louis fitting himself against his side for a bit. 

Liam’s hips snap up, held in place for a long beat, as his grip on Louis’s shoulder tightens and his other hand - so, so earnestly clenching Louis’s sheets until now - finds its way into Louis’s hair and tugs. Louis can’t help that he groans - he’s adding that to a list, too - and that does it, Liam coming in his mouth for a long moment, warm and wet spilling into Louis’s mouth, and he feels Liam’s muscles relax all at once, not one by one like they’re supposed to in stretches for rehearsals. 

The long, tense line of Liam’s body sinks into the mattress in one movement, and Louis slowly pulls himself up to lie along his side and run his fingertips across Liam’s abs while he takes long, shuddering breaths. Liam idly reaches up a hand that’s almost not shaking to still Louis’s hand when it gets near his nipple. 

‘You’re _such_ a tease,’ Liam says hoarsely, turning to claim Louis’s hand and throw his leg over Louis’s, moving his knee in slow, maddening circles on the exposed length of Louis’s thigh. Louis makes an indignant noise and reaches up, tugging Liam’s mouth to his and pushing his tongue past Liam’s lips, which fall open, languidly exploring every last corner he can reach. He raises an eyebrow as he pulls back.

Liam licks his lips and tentatively runs a hand across Louis’s nipples.

Louis gasps and reaches for Liam - any part of him, but his bicep, that’s good, it’ll do - fast enough to make the skin of his palm slap against Liam’s. _’I’m_ the bloody tease?’ 

There’s a huff of a laugh and Liam looks at him innocently. It sends a coil of warmth and something else all the way to pool in Louis’s abdomen, because he’s never enjoyed seeing how much trouble he’s going to be in ahead of time so much before this. 

Liam tugs Louis very close, so even the slim, thready light making it in from the hall is outside the circle of their snarled up limbs. Liam runs a hand up Louis’s spine, to the back of his neck, and tugs Louis’s forehead against his. He dips in, kissing him, and pulls back just as Louis opens his mouth to Liam’s ever-so-considerate tongue. He does it again, rubbing circles on his hipbone under his boxers, this time following it with slow, filthy kisses to Louis’s neck that will probably leave some spectacular bruises, but Louis is dimly aware he had that coming. Liam’s hot mouth at his neck coaxes him onto his back, and he’s aware he’s calling Liam a lot of terribly impolite names, so many he might be starting to repeat himself, but, well, he could _get on with it._

Louis is tempted to reach for his cock himself, so very exactly does he feel every inch of fabric covering him, and how Liam seems to be thoroughly nipping, licking and sucking every other inch of him. He’s sensitive even to the difference between the quilt cover at his back and the blanket against the back of his legs at this point. He lifts a hand from the cover while Liam _does things_ with his very clever mouth somewhere in the hollows of his collarbone, while he scrapes his nails lightly up and down his thigh, then muttering utterly filthy promises to the shell of his ear. 

Louis’s hand is pinned against the duvet and pushed under Liam’s thigh for safekeeping. 

Liam presses a kiss to the corner of Louis’s mouth and Louis lets out a sound of completely wrecked relief when Liam’s hand circles his cock and starts to move. The rhythm is unbearably slow, dragging heat through Louis from his toes to the arch of his back every single time, Liam’s mouth meeting his earlobe, his neck or his mouth with every movement. 

Louis has no idea how long Liam keeps him going for, only that after one particularly hard thrust into his fist, he hears a hoarse, ‘all right, then, all right, god, Lou, _look at you’_ in his ear and suddenly everything is moving fast, hard, and the room turns white. 

There’s no sound but their ragged breaths for a minute before Louis curls into himself and Liam’s chest, Liam reaching for him as he turns. They push out breaths against each other as Louis blinks. ‘God, think you could go slower next time? That was-’ 

The complaint dies on his lips as he sees the smile Liam is fighting. ‘You looked amazing. I’ve. Yeah. Never seen anything so-’ 

Louis supposes he doesn’t have a leg to stand on, not with the sheets damp and Liam smiling at him all bashful like he hasn’t just muttered the most obscene things Louis has ever heard outside of actual porn in his ears while wanking his brains out through his dick. And that is so very _Liam_ that it makes something in his chest ache deeper than the whole sex and exertion thing. 

He reaches over past Liam to clumsily tug the edge of the (ridiculous, but what else is having money _for?_ ) duvet over them. It’s a big enough bed - and they’re curled together close enough - that the duvet goes all the over them both to meet the material on the far side of Louis’s back. 

Louis sees Liam reach up a fingertip to touch his cheekbone almost reverently, thinks _oh,_ says something he hopes comes out as ‘would you go to sleep, love’ but probably comes out as ‘woolly leap, lovely’ or something, and falls asleep. 

*

It’s so much like something out of a film or a TV show that Liam feels his face get warmer every step to Louis’s bathroom, where he splashes ineffectually at his cheeks to wake himself up, even though all of his muscles feel like the morning after a too-long run, and his throat is dry. They didn’t have _that_ much wine. A cup of tea will see him right. 

He almost wishes he were less comfortable picking up whatever jogging bottoms are kicking around Louis’s bedroom floor and shrugging them on. They’re small on him - they finish just below the knee, like basketball shorts, so they must be short on Louis as well, because there’s a height difference, but it’s not that big. 

Liam picks his way down the stairs and feels himself turn redder and redder. There’s his shirt, there’s Louis’s jeans, their jackets. Then he remembers the tshirt Louis claimed months and months ago. It’s somewhere on the bedroom floor. Where Louis threw it. 

He’s turning the corner at the bottom of the stairs when he feels a sharp pain on the side of his foot. He glares down at the offending item before knocking his head against the wall. As if it couldn’t _get any more embarrassing._ Liam picks up the red envelope - no name on the outside, he made the decision in a hurry, all right, and it’s not like he was giving out multiple cards. 

While the kettle boils, and after Liam’s pulled out two mugs and put the tea in them, he looks at the envelope. 

He shakes his head and pulls out the milk.

It’s distinctly un-weird, padding around Louis’s kitchen in his borrowed joggers and fumbling for tea. He’s done it often enough. Less than some of the lads - Harry’s practically a house cat they share with Sheeran at this point - because Liam is stubbornly a bit of a fan of his own house and his own bed. The only difference is that he’s stumbling down from Louis’s bed rather than a spare, and even that’s not an actual first. 

Except. 

The kettle makes a cheerful sound as it boils. 

He makes the tea and picks up the card on the way. There’s a certain amount of mocking that’s a given, but hey, from what he remembers of the night before, it worked out, so he’s pretty sure he has his ways of distracting Louis if he gets too unbearable. 

Louis is sitting up in the bed, cross legged with the duvet tangling at his ankles and running a hand sleepily through his hair. He must have moved at some point, because he’s got soft-looking plaid pj bottoms on. Liam would have noticed if Louis had been wearing any clothes when he woke up, because he was paying a lot of attention to how he wasn’t wearing any, and all of the interesting places his own no-clothes met Louis’s no-clothes. 

He gulps, because it makes him feel a bit like he should be acting on some of the promises he remembers saying in Louis’s ear the night before. 

Later, Liam tells himself sternly, settling close to Louis on the bed and passing him tea. 

Then it occurs to him that their day is starting with the possibility of sex-as-procrastination, so it could be worse. A lot worse. 

Liam shuffles closer to Louis, who gives him a sleepy smile through half-open eyes and kisses him on the cheek. Liam is far enough onto the bed to pull his legs up onto it entirely. It makes him feel about five and like it’s a day off because of snow or something. He butts Louis’s shoulder with his forehead. Louis lightly tickles his far side and leaves his hand on his hip. 

Liam takes a breath and starts to speak, quietly and steadily, kind of hoping that if he keeps _saying words_ in a stubborn sort of fashion, Louis will not freak out. Though he doesn’t seem to be freaking out. He’s rubbing circles into Liam’s tenser back muscles with one lightly closed fist and humming under his breath over a steaming cup of tea. 

‘So, right, I mean, this wasn’t the plan or anything, but like I wanted to you know, give you this, since um well, the lads were all off today and I mean, I didn’t want you to- What I mean to say is that, last night wasn’t a date, I mean it wasn’t supposed to be a date, but then it kinda was?’

Liam gives in and puts his forehead on Louis’s shoulder, pushing the card at his knee. 

‘It certainly felt date-like,’ Louis answers just as slowly, ‘Especially the kissing and the sex. Unless I’ve been dating all wrong.’ Liam hears the rustle of the card opening and his back feels colder just from Louis moving his hand away. 

There’s a silence. Liam isn’t sure about the silence thing. It tends to mean bad things with Louis. 

He feels his heartbeat start to rise when Louis picks up the envelope and turns it over. 

Liam turns the dial up to Actually Worried when Louis’s eyebrows click together, looking between the card and the envelope. 

‘Um, Li-’

‘Oh God.’

‘No, don’t, um-’

‘I can just, but maybe we could, no we can talk la-’

Louis turns onto his knees and drags Liam’s chin up. ‘I opened your card.’

‘Yes,’ Liam says, wanting to nod, but feeling the steel in Louis’s grip and not wanting to push. Louis can be prickly. ‘Because I gave you the card.’

Louis’s shoulders sag and he looks back up at Liam, eyes dancing. ‘No, you great dolt, I opened _your_ card!’

Liam shakes his head. ‘It wasn’t secret or anything. I _gave_ you the card right now, like, a minute ago, Lou.’ 

‘Oh for the love of-’ Louis turns grabs the card from among the curves of the duvet, creasing the corner in the process, in his haste to nearly stab Liam in the eye with it. 

Liam reads the writing. He’d wanted to open it on the way up the stairs because he’d wanted to, well, check what he’d written to Louis or something. He’d decided against it because it wasn’t like he could change it now. Not without crossing things out or making it messy. So. He’d just given Louis the card. And waited.

Except. 

_Except._

‘Apparently we’re both too bloody lazy to write names on the outside of the bloody envelope!’ Louis is practically kicking his heels, he’s laughing so hard. 

Liam is reading the message in the card and feeling something like a grin on his face when Louis pokes his cheeks. He wouldn’t know, he feels kind of numb all over, but in a good way. 

The message is remarkably less articulate than Louis’s mouth the night before but it gets its point across. 

The picture doesn’t even have a heart on it. 

But. 

Well. 

‘Right, but it wasn’t supposed to be-- not like that anyway, with the romantic dinner.’ 

Louis appears to be trying to keep them on the subject, which is so ridiculous that Liam actually doubles over the bed and clutches a pillow. He recovers enough to say, ‘Very nice dinner though.’ 

Louis slides down next to him on the pillow and starts poking him in the upper arm and cheek in turns. ‘Yeah, it was, but I just kinda wanted to see you and give you this because well, I love you, so here.’ 

‘You already gave me that card.’ Liam says, looking between the card, now with some seriously crushed edges from them _rolling around the bed on top of it_.

It’s like the best Valentine’s Day card ever, even if it doesn’t have a heart on it, even if it wasn’t actually given until the next morning, because it’s achieved its ultimate destiny because they were rolling around on top of it and they threw it down some stairs because they were too busy kissing. Liam realises he’s having proud feelings about a piece of card and decides he should try to stay on topic, but it’s hard when he’s _really happy_ and quite excited about all the things they’re going to do, like breakfast in bed and sex in bed. 

‘Yes, but you thought it was _your_ card, so now I’m giving it to you properly,’ Louis says, mouth in a stubborn line. ‘And this is the point where you give me yours. Exchange and all that.’

Liam wants to point out that that’s exactly how Valentine’s Day _isn’t_ supposed to work, and entitlement is what’s wrong with the holiday because of bad merchandising, but Louis looks bloody adorable, like he’s perching on a pirate’s plank or something. He rolls his eyes and catches Louis's mouth in a quick kiss before moving off the bed. _Off the bed_ , what a horrible phrase. Liam gets his feet caught in his own (Louis’s own) tshirt trying to find the card he actually carried around the whole of the night before, wondering if he’d give Louis the envelope and run away or not. 

It’s still in his coat pocket, under Louis’s jeans, edges slightly bent. They might have stepped on it last night. And clearly, he is _not_ going to run away. Well, he might jog up a little faster than he should up the stairs, but under the circumstances he feels it’s understandable.

The second Louis sees him entering the room his eyes flit to his hands anxiously - as if part of him didn’t really believe Liam had bought a card, as if Liam would lie about it - and then brighten and he kneels up on the bed.

‘Oh! Gimme!’

Liam chuckles, crawling back on the bed, and it’s really unfair he’s been the one who’s had to get up, _twice_. He waves the card under Louis’s nose and taps him on the chin with it. Louis glares, though the heat of it is lost in how his eyes immediately soften as he looks at the card and drags his bottom lip between his teeth and just _stares_ at it.

‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Liam asks. It’s not special, not really, not after everything else and knowing exactly how Louis looks when he comes and how he kisses Liam like he’s desperate right before.

But still.

It’s kind of special. 

He didn’t actually buy any other cards.

Louis looks at him through his lashes and God, he’s so lovely. ‘Yeah... I can see how you got confused, both red envelopes.’

Liam grins, ‘Yeah, well.’

‘I feel you should open it, seeing as I opened yours which was mine, but really yours,’ he says, and Liam can tell he’s stalling a little. He’s not sure why, but it’s only a card. Except it’s not. His chest tightens.

‘Do you want me to open it?’

Louis smiles so softly at him that it loosens everything, ‘No, but it’s only fair!’ He hands the card back to Liam. ‘Maybe read it out loud?’ He waggles his eyebrows. 

‘No,’ Liam says, but rips open the envelope - it might or might not feel like he’s ripping himself open, too, just a little - and hands it back to Louis. ‘It’s for you and I know what it is says.’

‘Mysterious!’ Louis grins and pulls the card out, flipping it open without even glancing at the cover image - Liam frowns, he should look at the cover! He chose it because of the cover! - and almost misses Louis’s quiet _Li_. 

Liam swallows staring at Louis, the sweep of his cheekbone and how it’s a little flushed, how that little flush might because of Liam. ‘So, um, do you like-’

Louis launches himself at Liam (again, he can’t help but think) and cover his mouth with his, dropping soft kisses all over Liam’s lips and chin. ‘Liam! You! Augh!’ He pulls back and Liam has to blink up as Louis straddles his thighs and grins down at him. The light from the window catches the edges of his hair and Liam feels his breath catch. 

‘That’s good, right? Augh?’

Louis laughs and nods happily bending back down, rubbing their noses and lips together, before leaning back and examining the card all over again. He turns in it over in his hands twice, reading the message twice and never once ceasing from smiling that grin that has Liam thinking he could _easily_ write a message twice as long. 

‘Aww, and yours has a heart! You do love me!’ Louis crows, but it’s mostly fond.

Still, Liam groans and throws a pillow. Lou is irritating, and fast, and mouthy. 

‘Shut up, I’m taking it back!’ He moves to sit up, reaching for the card.

Louis actually clutches the ridiculous thing to his bare chest. ‘Never! I’m keeping it _forever_.’

‘Fine,’ Liam says, shifting his hips, trying to dislodge Louis. ‘Pass me mine. If you haven’t - God, shift your knee, you’re _ruining-’_

‘I _gave_ you-’ Louis only tightens his thighs.

‘ _I gave you_ -’ Liam goes to correct, because _twice!_ , he gave him a card twice, but in all their shifting their hips have aligned again and, well, um. They lock eyes for a second and Liam has to fight back a chuckle as Louis drops his card on the bed and bends over to him. He’s already leaning up. Liam’s flattens his palms against Louis’s hips to steady him and pull him closer and his abs are _so_ going to feel this later but it’s so worth it, holding himself against Louis like this. This time the kisses are soft and sweet, but wonderfully reminiscent of last night. 

And sex-as-procrastination _was_ the plan.

*

Of course they don’t tell the lads everything, even though Louis will probably eventually Harry about how Liam gets absolutely filthy in bed, sorry Li, but they do blame it all on the cards. 

‘You two are ridiculous, you know that, right? Accidentally getting together on Valentine's?’

‘Hey, we got you a menu from Gordon Fucking Ramsay!’

Harry does soften there for a bit and he strokes the menu sheet with his face, but Niall and Zayn just roll their eyes. ‘And we distracted the internet for you! I can’t believe you think we’d be surprised.’

‘Perrie _could not stop_ talking about how cute you were, boner killers.’

Louis laughs, ‘Now, that’s a dirty lie and you know it, Malik!’ Liam snorts.

Zayn glares at Louis, but turns tragic eyes on Liam. ‘Liam! You’re siding with this one, now?’

‘Of course he is, I’m his _boyfriend_ now.’ Louis happily punctuates his statement with a kiss and crawling over Liam’s lap. The others don’t even blink at the PDA. Louis considers why this is and sighs, sometimes being over affectionate has it downsides. He’s going to have to heighten his and Liam’s shock value.

It will be a fun endeavour. 

‘Sorry, Zayn,’ Liam leans as well as he can with Louis all over him and pats Zayn cheek, ‘You know how it is, got to keep the missus-mister? happy.’ 

Harry, Niall and Zayn completely fall apart at that, while Louis turns wide, accusing hopefully betrayed and not at all _amused_ eye at Liam.

‘Liam, I am _wounded_!’ and maybe that would have been more convincing if he hadn’t started nibbling at Liam’s ear, but Liam’s making _those_ noise and Louis presses himself closer. He hums happily when he feels Liam’s arm tighten on his waist. 

Suddenly the laughter shifts to sounds of _Ugh, please don’t!, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,_ and _we are going to need new rules_ before the snapping of the pictures and shuffling of feet. _Let’s leave them alone, lads._

Maybe it is better that the lads weren’t surprised. Less adjustment period, more snogging wherever he and Liam want.


End file.
